Silver Stars Collide
by Alithea
Summary: A lazy day for Sylvia becomes a chance meeting, and an opportunity for something more. F/F content.


Title: Silver Stars Collide  
Rating: PG-13  
Characters are not mine I am just borrowing.

* * *

It was a lazy sort of autumn day. Sylvia hadn't moved from bed except for random necessities, like tea, and something resembling breakfast. She had decided when she woke up that the only things of importance to get done were sleeping, and watching television as the rain poured down in sheets just outside her window. The weather controls on the colony were experiencing their usual autumn malfunctions, but served as a pleasant reminder that despite the many technological advances no one could ever truly tame the weather. For all she knew it was a localized storm over her apartment complex. And, again, she was fine with whatever the reason happened to be, because she needed the excuse to relax.

Her life since the end of the Gundam Wars had been a litany of charity work, coupled with family obligations. In between those things she managed to finish college with a business degree she loathed, and a minor in early earth literature that she adored. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a day off, or when it was actually on the colony she had come to call home. Business, travel, and the unfortunate need to talk to politicians about the causes she championed loomed large in the distance. For the moment there was a hot cup of tea with honey, and some strange but amusing cartoon show on the television.

She took a sip of tea and her private phone rang. She looked at the device as it buzzed along the outskirts of the bed. Sighing she picked it up and looked at the number. Then, with reluctance, she answered it.

"Hello," her voice chirped slightly from disuse. She hadn't even talked aloud to herself yet.

"Syl, it's Relena."

Sylvia rolled her eyes, well who else would it be? Years of technological advances and caller I.D. and people still felt the need to clarify that they were, indeed, themselves.

'Yes?" She replied.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Watching movies from the 1900s," Sylvia replied, adding quickly, "And having more butter drenched popcorn than should be legally allowed."

"So, you have no plans?"

Sylvia pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it with irritation, mouthing a scream before replying, "Not really, no. But, look, this is my-"

"I need a wing man," Relena interrupted. "Would you mind? I just want to have back up in case…" The pause was palpable.

"In case?"

"It's all rather silly, but there's this guy…"

_There always is_, Sylvia thought.

"And he's going to be at this club on colony. I just thought I'd show up and see what happens. Please say you'll come with me. I'll even ditch the goon squad. We'll be Preventer free. I promise."

Sylvia pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She looked over at the overenthusiastic movement of the animated characters on her television and asked, "What time?"

"I'll have the car get you at seven. Dress…Well, dress."

"Like an ambassador's ball, or upscale night club?" Sylvia asked trying to remember what she had that was clean in her closet.

"The second one, silly," Relena replied. 'You are a dear."

The line went dead and Sylvia tossed the phone aside and pulled the covers up over her head, knocking her tea on the ground. "And, _that_ is a sign I don't like the sound of," she said aloud.

* * *

The car arrived on time and Sylvia found herself outside the hottest night spot on the colony, a throwback to supper clubs. Relena was late, but Sylvia's name was on the guest list so she stepped inside and thanked the heavens for small blessings.

Sylvia was never a party girl. She attended them as it was necessary, the surname of Noventa carried as much obligation as that of Darlain or Winner or even Peacecraft. So, she attended the large mandatory functions of balls or dinners, and stayed as long as she had to to keep up appearances and even put a plug in for her latest work with the Noventa Foundation. But, other than that, she did not frequent nightclubs or bars like Relena or Dorothy Catalonia. She never went to frat parties during university, and there were only two tabloid stories ever written about her exploits as far as she knew. She didn't keep up, and made sure her publicist understood that she didn't care as long as the stories weren't outright slander.

She looked around as she entered the club. The line to get into the place had been long, and the standard velvet rope to keep the riffraff at bay was being used. She didn't see anyone who looked like a Preventer. No men or women in black suits with laughably apparent earpieces were standing about. It was a small relief, but she doubted the organization was that blatant in these times of peace. She had heard rumors that the Preventers worked on a scale of secrecy that would make infamous organizations from the past marvel at the progress of the future.

Sylvia found a table that had been reserved for herself and Relena. She sat and perused the list of house cocktails. In the past she had been woefully boring (Relena's words) and stuck to soda water or ginger ale, but that evening she asked the waitress for a recommendation. She was given a concoction of muddled mint leaves, ginger ale, and a ginger liqueur in a tall glass with ice. It was pleasant enough. She looked at her watch, and then her phone rang.

"So," Relena said apologetically.

"You aren't coming, are you," Sylvia said flatly.

"I'm stuck in a meeting, but the tabs on me. Have fun. Dance or something."

"But-"

"You don't get out nearly enough, Syl. Maybe you'll meet Mr. Right," She laughed, catching her mistake, and said, "Sorry, Ms. Right. I have to go. This crisis won't solve itself."

"Tsk," the noise left Sylvia's throat and hit the air loud enough to make the couple at the next table turn their heads. Sylvia smiled back at them and took a sip of her drink. The waitress returned, relating what Relena had already told her. Money was no object, and Ms. Darlain insisted that Sylvia treat herself for the trouble.

It wasn't the sort of apology Sylvia liked to accept, ever. But, she ordered herself a good dinner, dessert, and a glass of expensive port just for good measure. Then she signed for the bill using Relena's credit, and left the most generous tip she could think of.

She looked at the dance floor for a moment, but decided to leave. There was nothing in a place like this that she found exciting. Nothing fun about searching the crowds for someone to spend the evening with. She was never built that way, and had honestly had her fill of promiseless nights in college.

Sylvia waited patiently for the car to arrive, standing next to a tall blonde with short hair who was probably ten years older than she was. The woman had a familiarity about her, possibly from a charity event. She found herself staring trying to remember, focusing on the curve of the woman's lips when she suddenly turned to look at her.

"Iria Winner," the woman said, holding out her hand.

"Oh, yes. I thought I-" She stopped herself. "Sorry, for staring. I just… So many functions, and faces...even big names-"

"It's quite all right," Iria replied. "My brother is really the face of the family."

Sylvia nodded.

"Making a short night of it," Iria asked.

"My companion for the evening is...caught up in a galactic emergency."

"Must be the same thing that stalled my brother," Iria replied. "Well, your date doesn't know what he's missing," she added kindly.

Sylvia grimaced. "Not a date actually. Just...I came as moral support for a friend. She wanted to check out some guy."

"I see." There was a sudden knowing exchange of glances between the two and Iria said, "Well, emergency or not, your friend doesn't know what she's missing."

"No, I guess she doesn't."

And that was the whole of the exchange, because both cars suddenly pulled around. Sylvia slid inside her vehicle and played with the edge of her dress during the ride home. She looked out the window and considered the curve of the woman's lips, and a smile that was kind, knowing, but not easy. It was instead, hard fought, something Sylvia could readily appreciate.

* * *

There was a large charity event on the rebuilt Winner Corporation mining satellite that Sylvia found herself overly eager to attend. She realized her own foolishness, but couldn't help but hope she might run into Iria Winner again. It was a very large event, and Sylvia was a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people in attendance.

She was standing in close proximity to Relena who had discovered her near small group of dignitaries, and clung to her arm. It was for the best though, Relena had a way of introducing Sylvia to the people who were most likely to help support her family's foundation and charities. Relena was more on edge than normal, but everything became clear once the young man she was after appeared. He was a businessman interested in terraforming a planet for colonization, and every time he spoke Relena gave Sylvia's arm a squeeze. It was charming to watch the Vice Foreign Minister bluster under his attention, but she began to feel like an unnecessary addition to the conversation. She slipped away politely and headed towards the ladies' restroom.

Inside she made a pretense of checking her makeup, and the state of her hair. Longer than it used to be, skimming the edge of her shoulders, and, she felt, getting a little darker in color now that she was older. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she reopened them was startled by the sudden appearance of Iria Winner standing next to her, maintaining the same show of checking her hair and makeup.

The woman smiled. "It's just about the only way to excuse yourself from dull conversation," Iria said. "How are you?"

"Good. Just...Not running form conversation, so much as giving people some space," Sylvia replied.

"Ah, Miss Darlain and the entrepreneur," Iria chuckled. "They seem to be making a good try at it."

"Do they," Sylvia arched an eyebrow.

Iria nodded, and used a finger to correct the line of her lipstick at the edge of her mouth. She eyed Sylvia's reflection in the mirror and asked, "You should step out and see the atrium. There's a nice artificial breeze to accompany the view of the stars, and a decent garden."

"Decent?"

"Well, mostly mums, and other hearty flowers. It's a mining satellite, not a colony. Not quite built for excessive creature comforts. Just enough to keep the workers entertained." Iria smoothed the front of her gown and faced Sylvia to add, "And I should know."

"You work here?"

"I'm part of the medical team."

* * *

The atrium was pretty, but not beautiful. There was a lovely view of the stars, and that chilled artificial breeze Iria had warned about. Purple and orange mums lined the pathway that wound its way about the space. Sylvia found herself crossing her arms over her chest to keep warm, and Iria apologized for it.

"We could go get our wraps," the older woman stated.

"No, this is fine. The chill won't kill me," Sylvia replied and noted how very alone they were. "Not a very popular place at the moment." She paused by a window with the clearest view of space and tried to pinpoint the location of earth.

Iria stood behind her, a reflection ghosted against her own. The woman looked at Sylvia, her blue eyes casting along the arch of the young woman's neck. Allowing herself to be caught looking as Sylvia saw the slight movement in the reflection of the window, the lift at the corner or Iria's lips.

"How do you like living on colony," Iria asked.

"It's different, but good," she replied. "I had originally attended university up here as a…I guess it was a goodwill gesture. To prove to the people on earth that there were things up here worth believing in." She reached out and touched the window, half smiling at the memory. "That's actually where I met Relena. At school. Her coming up here may have made more of a difference in changing people's minds."

"I don't know about that," Iria offered, "You're the one who stayed, and made a colony your home base."

"Yes." She turned around and leaned into the glass, arms behind her back as she looked at Iria. "You've always been up here?"

"Except for school. Better medical schools on earth, but then straight back up to help my father with the last satellite, along with some of my sisters." She moved her lips to grin, or half smile, but the expression fell to something more thoughtful. "You're lovely, Sylvia."

Sylvia shut her eyes. She had begun to wonder if intentions would ever be made clear, though she knew she could have made a move first. It had been so long though, since the last time she dared a hope, found a connection. Iria moved forward and Sylvia followed, meeting to wrap arms about a slender, but not too thin waist.

"I-" Sylvia began to say, but Iria kissed her before the thought could fully form or be spoken aloud. Her fingers touching the exposed edge of Iria's back just beyond the thin velvet of the woman's dress. Chiding herself because she was letting whatever this was going to be move too fast. And she couldn't even find a reason to over think things as the kiss moved deeper, became wild in defiance of convention and their public location.

Iria pulled away first, catching her breath as she saw all the confusion and wanting in Sylvia's eyes. Kissing her again, fiercely, to assuage any doubt. Tangling her fingers in Sylvia's hair, and trying not laugh at the inconvenience of suddenly being caught. The sound of a man clearing his throat bringing the moment to a dead stop. Sylvia blinked as she looked over Iria's shoulder and saw the event's host standing along the path.

"Damn," she whispered, to which Iria kissed her forehead in response.

"Ladies," the young man said. "Iria?"

"Quatre," Iria said turning and taking Sylvia's hand in her own.

The young man smiled and shook his head. "Do have a lovely evening," he said and jogged passed them to the other end of the atrium.

"Oh," Sylvia said, "Why?"

"Why, not," Iria asked. "Let's find some place a little less...prone to interruption."

"I…" Doubt swelled in her stomach, but Iria squeezed her hand and she could do nothing but follow the older woman.

* * *

They moved quickly out of the atrium, back into the bluster of the party. Rushing in elegant strides to avoid being caught in conversation. Leaving their wraps behind and exiting the event with more ease than Sylvia thought possible. She allowed herself to be led down a short block, and into a building's foyer. From there just a mild jaunt to the elevator, and the speedy ascent to the floor of Iria's flat.

The door shut, and instead of the earlier frenzied pace there was a sudden stillness about them. A moment in which they took a moment to breathe, settling on the couch, and then the soft press of Iria's lips along the top of Sylvia's head as they held each other.

"That was frenetic," Iria breathed.

"Quite...Maybe we need to get out more," Sylvia stated, shutting her eyes and resting her head along Iria's shoulder. "Ever been caught like that before?"

"Once...Father was furious," she confessed, adding, "I was unapologetic. You?"

"Not…" She trailed off and shook her head. "Not from this end of things."

"Bad memory?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry." She moved, and then stood up. Reached out a hand and pulled Sylvia towards the bedroom.

* * *

"We can always just sleep," Iria said softly as the door closed, and she began to peel out of her dress. She turned and watched as Sylvia did the same. Approaching the young woman with caution before kissing her, pulling away to say again, "You are lovely."

There wasn't anything Sylvia could say to that, but she let herself be guided to the bed. Let herself succumb to the lust building within her, and the gentleness of Iria's touch. The once hurried caresses now more controlled, deliberate expressions of desire. Returning the same, and taking the lead after a long evening of being led. Settling down under the covers once there was nothing left but the faint echoes of pleasure sounding in their ears, and the need to sleep, be still, tangled together.

"I want this to last," Sylvia murmured, half asleep.

"Yes," Iria replied with her eyes shut, heart sinking with uncertainty. "Yes," she said again,"Let's try."

End.


End file.
